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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25621138">At Last</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/FarJadeDragon/pseuds/FarJadeDragon'>FarJadeDragon</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>BLU Team Adventures [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Team Fortress 2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Domestic Fluff, Fluff, I have no clue where this is going, M/M, More tags will be added later, Soldier/Spy - Freeform, Spy/Soldier - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 09:01:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,086</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25621138</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/FarJadeDragon/pseuds/FarJadeDragon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Honestly it’s just about Soldier and Spy’s relationship and how it develops after the team disbanded. How they get used to each other’s habits and mannerisms when they’re not trying to kill other people.</p><p>Ya know, domestic stuff.</p><p>Oh, there’s a baby in there somewhere too.</p><p>[Abandoned Work. Might come back, but it’s unlikely.]</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Soldier/Spy (Team Fortress 2)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>BLU Team Adventures [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1730344</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Okay, so this is basically a long, domestic view of Spy and Soldier’s life after the BLU team disbanded. </p><p>This’ll be my first time writing romance too, so criticism and tips are welcomed!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The morning was still and silent. The sun hasn’t quite risen yet, instead choosing to hide just below the horizon. A soft mist had settled onto the city as the tail-end of a light storm drizzled onto the skyscrapers, covering everything in a sheen of glass. Lights from the sparse cars on the streets dissipated into the fog, leaving a soft glow in their places.</p><p>Jane had gone off to patrol the hallways of the hotel, as he always does. Despite this being a temporary home, he still insisted on doing his morning routine of exercising at six and then going on guard duty until seven sharp. I remember asking him why he wanted to guard the place, but I was far too tired to fully process his response. I appreciated his vigilance, though I wish he’d be a bit more quiet during his guard duty.</p><p>I took a sip from my coffee, relaxing as the warm liquid flowed past my lips and into my stomach, radiating warmth and energy through my body. New York, despite it only being fall, was a fairly cold place. I suppose I should be lucky my mask keeps my face somewhat warm. Leaning back in my chair, I relaxed, preparing myself for my mission today.</p><p>We’re only going to be here for a week while I finish a job, if all goes well. I’m supposed to kill some mafia member who was taking more than his fair share of cash. I’m also supposed to do it as quietly as possible—</p><p>“HELLO, SPY!” Jane boomed, slamming open the door and entering, a wide smile splitting his face.</p><p>“ ‘Ello, Jane.” I said, giving him a small smile as I took another sip of my coffee.</p><p>His smile broadened. He still wore his normal BLU uniform and signature helmet proudly, not that he had a lot of options.</p><p>“I FINISHED GUARD DUTY!” He said, saluting enthusiastically.</p><p>Nodding, I took another sip of my coffee. He closed the door behind himself.</p><p>“ARE YOU AWAKE?” He said, grabbing a chair and sitting across from me.</p><p>“Almost.” I said, taking another sip. How he has so much energy this early in the morning is still a mystery.</p><p>He was twiddling his thumbs, staring at me from beneath his helmet with a mixture of hope and anxiety. It was… concerning, considering he usually only gives me that look when something is wrong. Very wrong.</p><p>“... is something wrong Jane?” I asked, concerned.</p><p>“I WANT TO GO ON THE MISSION WITH YOU!” He said, slamming his fist on the table to emphasize his voice, not that it needed emphasis. He probably just woke up the entire building.</p><p>“Oh.” I said softly.</p><p>He’s staring at me, waiting for an answer. Admittedly, I didn’t want him to come with me, at all. While his company would be welcomed (and money not being an issue— we split the reward anyway), his… style of combat doesn’t lend well to my sort of missions.</p><p>“Jane, we went through this last time.” I said, sighing. Despite the fact that every time he’s asked if he could come and got “no” as an answer, he always asks.</p><p>“I KNOW!” He said. “I CAN BE QUIET THIS TIME! I WILL BE QUIET THIS TIME!”</p><p>Jane can’t be quiet. He’s loud, confrontational, and not stealthy. Not in the slightest. As much as I… love him… doing this mission was going to be difficult as is.</p><p>“Jane, the answer is still no.” I said, remaining firm.</p><p>Jane nodded, frowning. He looks so… disappointed. He’s been very eager to do something ever since we were “fired” a year ago.</p><p>I closed my eyes, trying to think. Perhaps, there is a solution. “...Jane?”</p><p>Jane perked up.</p><p>“I have an idea that you might like.”</p><p>He leaned in closer. I can feel a small smile tugging at the corners of my mouth.</p><p>“After this mission, I’ll choose a mission that you will be able to come to.” I said. “Although, it may take longer to find one.”</p><p>He stared at me a moment, processing what I’ve just said. A huge smile formed on his face.</p><p>“YES!” He said, standing up.</p><p>“But you have to be patient—“</p><p>“I WILL BE PATIENT!” He said, standing on the table and picking me up, giving me a bear hug and knocking my coffee over in the process.</p><p>“O-okay! Glad you like the idea!” I said, trying to avoid hitting my head on the ceiling.</p><p>He was so happy that he’d finally get to do something. It was adorable, honestly. He has such a big smile. It’s contagious; I couldn’t help but smile along with him and hug him back. Although, I have doubts as to whether or not he’ll be patient.</p><p>“Jane? Can you put me down please?”</p><p>“I WILL PUT YOU DOWN!”</p><p>He put me down, then stepped off of the table. I picked up my overturned coffee cup. Thankfully, it was mostly empty by the time Jane decided to pick me up, so coffee didn’t get anywhere but the table, thankfully.</p><p>“Thank you.” I said, putting my mug into the sink.</p><p>“YOU’RE WELCOME!” He boomed, grinning still.</p><p>Grabbing a napkin, I cleaned up the few droplets of coffee that managed to escape the mug. Wait, why is Jane still staring at me? Is he okay?</p><p>“Soldier? Do you need something?” I asked, throwing the napkin into the garbage next to the stove.</p><p>“YES!” He said, grabbing my hands and pulling me out of the kitchen and down the hallway.</p><p>Turns out, he was pulling me towards the gym.</p><p>“Soldier? Why are we in the gym?”</p><p>“I WOULD LIKE TO DO PUSH-UPS!” He said. “WITH YOU!”</p><p>“With me?” I said, staring at him.</p><p>He just nodded. “YES!”</p><p>I suppose some exercise could be good for me. A few push-ups can’t hurt too much could they?</p><p>“Alright Jane,” I said, nodding. “I’ll do a few with you.”</p><p>“I WILL MAKE SURE YOU ARE IN TOP SHAPE!” He said, looking very enthusiastic.</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>Turns out, push-ups can be very painful.</p><p>Now, I understand I’m not the strongest person in the world. In shape, yes, but by no means strong. Often I have to rely on my flexibility, wit, and weapons to get me out of situations that may have need strength otherwise.</p><p>Unfortunately for me, Jane’s idea of a push-up was for him to stand on my back and push myself off the floor. He’s 200 pounds of pure muscle. There’s no way I’m going to be able to do a push-up.</p><p>“PUSH! PUSH LIKE YOU MEAN IT!” He said.</p><p>“Jane, I don’t think I’ll be able too—“</p><p>“YOU CAN! JUST PUSH!”</p><p>“Hnng!”</p><p>With a grunt, I managed to do one painful push-up. Then my arms gave out, and I collided with the floor, face-first.</p><p>“One.” I wheezed, arms burning.</p><p>“YOU DID IT!” He said, overjoyed. “DO ANOTHER!”</p><p>“I can’t.” I muttered.</p><p>“YOU CAN!”</p><p>“My arms hurt.”</p><p>“PAIN IS WEAKNESS LEAVING THE BODY!”</p><p>“Then I am very weak.”</p><p>Soldier was quiet for a moment, still standing on my back as I began to question my life choices.</p><p>“YOU ARE NOT WEAK!” He yelled.</p><p>I sighed. If I don’t do something, I’m going to be here for a while. I enjoy spending time with Jane, but laying on the floor with him standing on my back Isn’t my favorite pass time.</p><p>Wait, what time is it? I need to check my—</p><p>6:00. I need to go.</p><p>“Jane? Could you get off for a moment?”</p><p>He stepped off of my back. I brushed myself off.</p><p>“Thank you. I have to go now.” I said, checking my watch again to make sure I read it correctly.</p><p>“YOU DO?” He said, frowning.</p><p>“Yes. I’ll be back in a few days. If I’m not—“</p><p>“GO TO FLORIDA!”</p><p>Why does he always have to say it so loudly? “Yes, go to Florida.”</p><p>We’ve gone over the plan several times. If I ever went “missing,” then he’ll move to Florida. If I don’t come back within two weeks, he changes his name and leaves the country. Or, at the very least, goes to the west coast. I know Jane can handle himself in a fight, but it’s still mice to have a set place to meet up.</p><p>“ARE YOU LEAVING NOW?” Jane said, still frowning.</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>He nodded, standing stiffly in front of me, hands curled at his hip. I believe he calls this “standing at attention,” although from what I understand it’s usually reserved for specific situations. Why he was doing it now is a mystery to me.</p><p>“DO NOT DIE.” He said.</p><p>“I won’t, Jane.” I said, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. “I will be fine.”</p><p>His frown turned into a grin, and he sauletes me as I walked off. I opened the front doors of the building and was greeted by the morning fog and the half-shining sun.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Spy is gone.</p><p>Every week, he had a mission. Every week, he came back, usually a little tired, but he came back. It may take a few days, but he always came back.</p><p>I wish he’d bring me with him sometimes.</p><p>While he’s gone, I’m supposed to take care of wherever we are staying. I’ve already patrolled the hallways. Now all I have to do is the rest of this list he gave me.</p><p>Thankfully, along with his smooth, loopy handwriting, he also drew pictures. He’s getting much better at drawing stick-figures, which is good, although I’m honestly not sure what half of these are. This one right here is either a ham or a grenade without a pin, which isn’t how you’d want to use grenades normally. Unless he wants the ones that use buttons instead of pins, which I think I can get before he gets back. No wait, I think it’s actually a waffle?</p><p>Whatever that is, it’s already been crossed out, which means I’ve already done it. Actually, most of these are already done, I just have to go get some of those little bottles of shampoo, which I can get from one of the closets on floor zero.</p><p>Heading into our bedroom, I passed by my spare helmets, stopping at the bed to find my wallet. It wasn’t on the bed, so it’s definitely in my pocket— Nope,  not there either.</p><p>I patted myself down, searching for my wallet. Last I saw it was in my shoe, so maybe he took it out while he was doing laundry? He always does my laundry, so maybe he left it somewhere.</p><p>I checked under the bed. It was there, just barely out of sight.</p><p>“FOUND YOU!” I said, grabbing my wallet.</p><p>Wait, there’s something else under here too. Looks like a glove.</p><p>I picked it up. It was one of Spy’s gloves, the kind that lets him stick to walls. I held the glove in my hand, looking at the swirls on the fingertips. His shoes had the same pattern on the soles, although strangely only on the toe part. Wonder why.</p><p>Also, he has tiny hands. I couldn’t fit more than a few fingers into the glove. Wonder if I can still use it. I’d try, but I don’t want to rip it by accident. Or get it stuck somewhere.</p><p>I opened the drawer on his nightstand, revealing an array of neatly matched gloves(and one lone one) and masks. I put his glove next to the lonely one and closed the drawer.</p><p>Why does he wear masks anyway? He said he does it to hide his face to hide his identity, but he shouldn’t have to wear a mask when we’re alone!</p><p>It’s probably his scar. He doesn’t like it. He hates it, from what little he’s told about it. I think it’s a badge of honor, a sign of a good fight he won, but I guess for him it isn’t.</p><p>Rubbing my thumb against the soft fabric of one of his masks, I made sure not to tear the delicate threads that made up the mask that he treasured so much. I know he has extras, but still.</p><p>I’ve never seen his face, except for his eyes and mouth. His mask hides everything else.</p><p>Hell, I still don’t even know his name! I told him mine, why won’t he tell me his? Is he embarrassed? I mean, I have a girl’s name, so I doubt his is any worse!</p><p>Actually, now that I’m thinking about it, he never told anyone his name. The French Spy never told anyone either, so it might just be a thing spies do. It makes sense, they are Spys. They had to.</p><p>Still, I don’t even know the day he was born. That can’t be too personal right?</p><p>I know he likes the color yellow, but I don’t know what food he likes. I don’t know a lot of things about him, now that I think about it.</p><p>Does he know what I like? I think so. He knows I like burgers and ribs, he always buys them for me when we go out for dinner. Actually he buys them for himself too, but he eats them with a fork and knife. Guess he really likes his gloves.</p><p>I want to know more about him. I already know he doesn’t like push-ups.</p><p>Does he not trust me? Is that the problem? Is that why he won’t tell me his name? Is that why he always wears a mask? Well, I’ll be the most trustworthy person then! I will never tell him a lie! When he gets back, I will—</p><p>Wait, I already don’t lie. So maybe it’s not trust that’s a problem. Maybe it’s something else.</p><p>He’s scared. Scared of what though? Is it me? I don’t think so. He’s about half a foot taller than me and can pin me to a greasy diner table before I can blink. Other people? Maybe.</p><p>I passed by the man who worked the front desk, heading down a different hallway. The supply closet with the shampoos should be around here somewhere. </p><p>Wish I could read the numbers on the door, because they all look the same.</p><p>A cry echoed down the hallway. A baby’s cry. Did I scare a baby again?</p><p>“Shh, It’s okay.” A woman said from the end of the hallway, fumbling with her keys as she struggled to hold the baby in her arms. “Just give me—“</p><p>She looks a bit like Miss Pauling did, but I think it’s just her glasses. I’ve seen the woman before, although we haven’t talked until now. I think Spy’s talked to her though.</p><p>“DO YOU NEED HELP?” I said, walking over.</p><p>She jumped. “Oh? Um, yes! If you’d like to hold her for me, that would be great.”</p><p>Hold the baby?</p><p>She handed me the crying baby as she fumbled with the key to the room. I cradled it in my arms like I’ve seen other people hold babies. They are fragile after all. Very fragile. Like glass.</p><p>It’s so soft, and has squishy cheeks. It’s little face was burning a bright red as it bawled it’s eyes out.</p><p>Is it scared of me? It is very tiny, so it probably is.</p><p>“Thank you!” She said, opening the door and taking the baby from my arms. She patted its back, trying to sooth its crying.</p><p>I almost didn’t want to give it back.</p><p>“Are you roommates with the masked man?” She asked.</p><p>“AFFIRMATIVE.” I said. We’re more than roommates, but Spy said not to tell that to anyone.</p><p>“IT IS SCARED OF ME.” I said.</p><p>“She’s probably just tired.” She said, walking into the doorway. “Don’t feel too bad.”</p><p>“OKAY.” I said, standing at attention outside her door.</p><p>“Thank you again.” She said. The baby isn’t crying any more. “Would you like to come in for some tea?”</p><p>“NEGATIVE.” I said. “I HAVE A LIST OF THINGS TO FINISH.”</p><p>“Oh. Alright then. Have fun!” She said. “If you need anything, feel free to stop by.”</p><p>She closed the door gently, leaving me in the hallway. Alone.</p><p>I hope Spy gets back soon.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>Thunder boomed, and a flash of lightning split the clouds outside the window. Rain battered the ground like bullets, and wind sent papers and other garbage flying through the air.</p><p>Spy is late. He’s supposed to be back by midnight, but he isn’t. I might have to start packing soon if he isn’t back soon.</p><p>I don’t want to leave him.</p><p>I wish he would let me go with him. He said he promised to let me go with him on the next one.</p><p>I wish he would hurry and open the door and say ‘ello like he always does.</p><p>But, as of now, he’s thirty-two minutes and fifty-three seconds late. He’s always a little late, but not this late.</p><p>I hope he’s okay.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sorry for the short chapter. The next one will be pretty short too, but the next ones should start getting longer.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tired.</p><p>So tired.</p><p>Wind threatened to blow me over. The rain felt like razor blades on what little of my face is exposed. Soreness radiated through me in waves, pulsing outwards from my limbs and joints and ebbing into my brain. My torn clothes are drenched in blood, sweat and rain. Thankfully, none of the blood is mine.</p><p>I hope.</p><p>My mission was technically successful, although the person who was supposed to pay me ended up dying in the process, so it was pointless. I suppose money is going to be a bit tighter for a little while. That’s okay though, I don’t think Jane minds the budget. He’s content to eat canned hash for a few weeks.</p><p>I’m so tired. Fatigue hung over me like a suit of armor, making me drag my feet on the ground. I think I’m missing a shoe as well, which doesn’t help.</p><p>Between exhaustion and the dark, I can barely see where I’m going. Hopefully the bright light ahead is the hotel, otherwise I’ll have a few more problems to solve before I get home.</p><p>The asphalt of the parking lot scraped against my shoe. My legs are shaking like jelly, with each step making it more and more difficult to stay upright. My vision is starting to darken around the edges. I don’t think I can make it, not like this.</p><p>I can feel carpet beneath my feet. Cheap, well-worn carpet, but carpet nonetheless. That’s good, it means I’m in the building. Now I just have to find the right door.</p><p>The hallways are a labyrinth of plywood and stained carpet. I can’t tell where exactly I am. The doors, floors, and walls all look the same, having the same patterns and feel and stains. I’ve passed this corner a few times now. I’d ask for help, but the only person awake now is Jane.</p><p>I suppose I should be glad nobody else is awake. Someone seeing me using the wall as a crutch could give them the encouragement to try and rob me, not that I have much money on me anyway. I do have a knife, although they won’t get it.</p><p>My hand stopped passing over the wall and got to the edge of a doorway. It looked exactly like all the others, but the number seems familiar.</p><p>God, I hope this is the right door I’m knocking on. Otherwise, I might end up collapsing in a stranger’s room. That would be bad.</p><p>The door opened in a hurry, and I had barely enough time to grab the door frame for support.</p><p>“HELLO SPY!” Jane said enthusiastically, a wide grin splitting his face as he held the door open, notably still dressed in his uniform.</p><p>Jane’s loud voice pierced my skull like a bullet. I tried to refrain from wincing, but I couldn’t. Hopefully he didn’t just wake everyone else up, or we might get a few more noise complaints.</p><p>It doesn’t really matter though. Even if we do get a noise complaint, I’m so relieved to see his face, that I could care less who might be bother by his… volume.</p><p>“Hello… Jane.” I said, giving him a warm smile.</p><p>I forced myself to take a step forward. My feet feel like lead.</p><p>“ARE YOU OKAY?” He asked, sounding worried.</p><p>“I’m alright.” I said as the doorway started to tilt a bit.</p><p>I’m not. My legs are starting to give, and I can’t see Jane’s face anymore. Is he still there?</p><p>“Jane?” I asked.</p><p>I’m so tired, and my eyelids are so heavy.</p><p>“YES?” He said, sounding concerned.</p><p>My legs gave out. Darkness swallowed my vision as I sunk towards the floor. It’s okay though, I made it home.</p><p>I hit something firm and warm, which squeezed my torso surprisingly gently as everything started melting into a puddle of unconsciousness. </p><p>Usually I would be panicking right now, since collapsing in front of somebody is a prime opportunity to be captured or killed, but I’m not. I feel warm and safe, finally home.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hopefully the last of the really short chapters.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A single, loud knock on the door woke me up. I had fallen asleep, again.</p><p>Getting up and doing a quick stretch, I walked over to the door and opened it.</p><p>It’s Spy! He’s back!</p><p>“HELLO SPY!” I said.</p><p>He visibly winced.</p><p>“ ‘Ello… Jane.” He said, his voice as low and soft as it always is, although it’s a bit tougher than usual.</p><p>He’s leaning against the doorframe, covered with blood splatters and dirt. Bags hung under his tired eyes. He swayed a bit, and was hunched over in exhaustion as he tried to keep his glassy eyes opened. He still has his familiar smile though, so maybe he’s not as bad as he looks.</p><p>“ARE YOU OKAY?” I asked.</p><p>“I’m alright.” He said, gripping the doorway a bit tighter and leaning forward a bit. He’s about to collapse.</p><p>His smile faded as he squinted, loosening his grip on the doorway absent-mindedly.</p><p>“Jane?” He said, quieter than before?</p><p>“YES?” I said, getting ready to catch him.</p><p>He looked like he wanted to say something else, but he didn’t get the chance to. He let go of the doorway and fell forward, losing all strength in his legs.</p><p>I caught him in a warm hug. He’s limp, not even trying to keep his head up.</p><p>“SPY?” I asked, keeping a firm grip on him.</p><p>No response. He’s out like a light. He’s usually pretty tired when he gets back from a mission, but not this tired. Never this tired.</p><p>Thankfully I caught him, but I’m not sure if he’s dead or not. Let me check— Nope! He’s still breathing, although I don’t think he’s going to wake up any time soon. Definitely not.</p><p>I maneuvered him so I could move my arms without knocking things over. I guess I could just dump him on the floor, but that’s not okay to do. Plus he’d wake up all sore.</p><p>Maybe I can put him on the bed, that way he’ll wake up comfortable and not on the floor. Maybe I can even make him breakfast tomorrow!</p><p>I ducked under the doorway to our room and tore off the blanket, then placed him down as gently as I could. He was a little crooked, but he won’t wake up on the floor. Now I just have to cover him up and— oh.</p><p>There’s blood on my hand. Warm blood. I patted myself down, looking for a wound, but I didn’t have one. At least, not an external one.</p><p>Does he have a wound? I don’t see any. I mean, he has blood on him but I thought that was from whoever he killed.</p><p>There’s a dark spot on his suit. I thought it was just a stain, but it’s getting bigger. I lifted up his suit, revealing a bullet wound on his side.</p><p>He’s bleeding! That’s not good. I need to find something to stop the bleeding.</p><p>I grabbed a pillow and tore the case of, then wrapped it around his torso. That should at least stop the bleeding for a little while.</p><p>I sat down on the foot of the bed, staring at him. He’s sleeping pretty peacefully, despite how banged up he looks. I wish he was awake.</p><p>Maybe I should take off his mask. I’ll finally be able to see his face. But that would be wrong, and he’d probably hate me if I did that. No, it’s not worth it.</p><p>Bandages. I need bandages, but I don’t know where to find them. I could go looking, but I don’t want to leave him by himself for too long. He’s too weak right now, and wouldn’t be able to defend himself if someone followed him from the mission.</p><p>What do I do? Everybody else is asleep—</p><p>The woman and the baby! They’ll be able to help! She probably knows all about this sort of thing! At least, I’m pretty sure. Spy mentioned something about her being a nurse a few days ago, so it’s a safe bet.</p><p>I swung open the door and ran down the hallway, boots thumping on the patterned carpet below me. I passed by a few similar-looking doors before stopping at the one they lived in. I knocked on the door.</p><p>“One moment!” A voice said behind the door.</p><p>Slowly, the door opened. The woman was behind it, brandishing a baseball bat.</p><p>“What do you w- oh it’s… you?” She said, lowering the bat a bit.</p><p>“YES!” I said. “I NEED YOUR HELP!”</p><p>“...at three in the morning?”</p><p>“AFFIRMATIVE!”</p><p>“... with what?” She said, eyeing me suspiciously.</p><p>“I NEED BANDAGES!”</p><p>“Oh, um…”</p><p>She rummaged in the drawer next to the door and handed me a box of bandages gently.</p><p>“Here you go.” She said, yawning. “You can keep those.”</p><p>They’re too small. So small in fact, that they’d probably only be able to cover up a paper cut.</p><p>“I NEED BIGGER ONES!”</p><p>She flinched, taking a step back.</p><p>“...how...big?” She asked, growing a bit concerned.</p><p>“BIGGER!” I said, making a rough estimate of the size I would need.</p><p>Her other eyebrow shot up.</p><p>“I-I don’t have any of that size!” She said, pacing. “Wait who’s injured that badly?”</p><p>“MY ROOMMATE!”</p><p>“Oh.”</p><p>She thought for a moment, furrowing her eyebrows.</p><p>“Can I see him? He might need more than a bandage…”</p><p>Should I trust her? Yes. She is very trustworthy.</p><p>“YES!” I said, grabbing her arm.</p><p>“W-Wait I can’t leave my—“</p><p>“I CAN BRING HIM HERE THEN!”</p><p>“Can he be moved?”</p><p>He can be, he’s not very heavy, but I don’t know if I should.</p><p>“...It’s okay. I think she’s awake anyway.”</p><p>A baby’s wail could be heard from within the room. She sighed.</p><p>“I can just bring her with me. Give me one second.”</p><p>She closed the door gently, and I waited patiently. Within a few minutes, she opened the door, this time holding the baby. The baby was crying, and she was trying to sooth her by patting her back.</p><p>“Okay, we can go now.”</p><p>“GOOD!”</p><p>I led her through the hallways and to our room, opening the door.</p><p>“HERE HE IS!”</p><p>She walked up to the bed cautiously, glancing at my rocket launcher that was laying next to the nightstand with worry.</p><p>“...what exactly do you two do?”</p><p>“THINGS!”</p><p>She nodded, then carefully walked over to where Spy was.</p><p>“O-oh...that’s why you needed—...oh…”</p><p>She took a step back.</p><p>“Okay I can go get some bigger bandages.” She said, walking towards the door. “Keep some pressure on the wound!”</p><p>“YES MA’AM!” I said, finding another pillow sheet to wrap around his makeshift bandage.</p><p>She left, leaving me alone with Spy. He was still laying there, with his slightly crooked mask and torn suit, taking shallow breaths. He was sweating a bit.</p><p>Is he sick? He looks like he has a fever, but he didn’t feel any warmer earlier. Maybe he just ran a lot.</p><p>Maybe it’s just a nightmare. He has those every now and then. He doesn’t like to talk about them, but he said they’re not that bad.</p><p>I think he’s lying.</p><p>I wrapped the second sheet around his side. That’ll stop the bleeding long enough to get an actual bandage. Hopefully she gets back soon.</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>Clocking in at exactly twenty minutes and thirty-five seconds, the women and the baby came back with a medical kit.</p><p>“I’m back! Sorry it took so long. Is he still okay?”</p><p>“AFFIRMATIVE!” I said, getting out of her way.</p><p>She suddenly handed me the baby, who was now fully awake and grumpy, with her tiny fists balled up in seething rage that her nap had been interrupted. She stared at me with a furrowed brow and would be crying if she wasn’t so angry.</p><p>“That’s good.” She said, sitting down in a chair by the bed. “You don’t mind holding her do you?”</p><p>“I DO NOT!” I said. “SHE IS ANGRY!”</p><p>“She gets like that when she doesn’t sleep.” She said, sighing afterwards. “Just don’t hurt her okay? Please.”</p><p>She sounded like she was pleading that last word. Like she was begging for mercy.</p><p>The woman opened up the medical kit, pulling out a disinfecting vial, bandages, and scissors. With expert precision she sliced off both layers of pillow cases and examined the wound, looking fearful.</p><p>Is the wound that bad? Is that why she’s so scared.</p><p>Muttering to herself, she grabbed some disinfectant and gauze and started to clean the wound.</p><p>Her baby is much more noisy. Still crying, still cranky, still tired and helpless. I tried to pat her on the back, but I’m not her mother, so she just kept crying.</p><p>Within minutes, the wound was expertly bandaged. I wish I had her dexterity. If I was the one doing the bandages, it wouldn’t look nearly as neat and pretty as it does now.</p><p>“It’s done.” She said, applying some tape so the gauze would stay in place.</p><p>“IS IT BAD?” I asked.</p><p>She jumped.</p><p>“N-no! He’ll be fine! It wasn’t too deep.” She said, gingerly taking her baby back.</p><p>He’ll be okay.</p><p>“THANK YOU!” I said.</p><p>She briskly walked out, closing the door gently behind herself, leaving me alone with Spy once more.</p><p>Spy’s still asleep, his bandaged torso now hidden under his battered suit. His crooked mask is torn in a few places, and a few strands of black hair were sticking out from under it. His normally clean suit was covered in dry blood and dirt, and he’s missing a shoe. He has spares, but it’s still a bit sad to see.</p><p>Maybe I should keep an eye on him.</p>
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